An Unintentional Experiment with John's Allergies
by TheAnonymousBlogger
Summary: Sherlocks most recent experiment: a cat. Any problems with that? Oh, maybe the fact that John is seriously allergic.


**I got a sudden burst of inspiration for this at like half one this morning and couldn't sleep until i had written it! Haha, it was just a bit of fun really so I hope you enjoy it! :D **

* * *

Sherlock's experiments were certainly nothing new to John, in fact he was normally more surprised when he opened the fridge to find food rather than mangled body parts, but sometimes he thought that they went a bit far. Like today's experiment, it seemed.

John had been sat in his armchair, his back to Sherlock and his experiments in the kitchen, slowly typing up his blog when he suddenly found himself short of breath. He wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion as he took a deep breath only to break down into a short sneezing fit, "atschh, htsch, achoo!" He blinked his eyes blearily, finding them suddenly watery, and took another deep breath. This time it was effective and sneeze-less so he returned to his blog, putting the unusual sneezes out of his mind.

Of course Sherlock didn't even notice Johns slight discomfort and the two carried on as they had for another ten minutes before John found himself repeating the same process, this time however with more vigorous sneezes, "AAACHOO, httshhchhh, aaAaCHOOO!" Feeling suddenly worse for wear, John shut the lid on his laptop and heaved himself out of his armchair with the intention of making a steaming hot cup of tea that would, hopefully, make this blasted cold hurry away. However as soon as turned to face the kitchen he stopped dead in his tracks because, at the sight of Sherlock and his most recent experiment, a bloody cat of all things, everything clicked into place.

* * *

Sherlock looked up as he saw John shuffle through the kitchen doorway and paused, slightly taken aback by John's new disheveled appearance. John was shivering, had swollen, red eyes that seemed to be streaming rather profusely and every few steps his whole body shook as a sneeze violently escaped him.

"What the bloody hell are you doing Sherlock?" John sounded angry, oh dear.

"An experiment." Sherlock replied knowing he was on dangerous grounds.

"On what exactly?"

"A cat."

Suddenly John exploded, "yes Sherlock I-I - htschhhh - I can, oh bloody hell," his whole face squeezed up tight before his head suddenly snapped forward, "aatschh, HHTSCHHH, ACHOOO! I can see that Sh'rlock but whad in Gods name are you doing with the cat?"

The last part of the sentence was rushed, presumably so that John could get it out before another attack of sneezes hit him, and very congested. Sherlock looked at John and blinked, not making the connection between his situation and the cat.

"Are you okay John?"

"Od course I'b not okay, you've brought a bloody cat indo the house."

"So?"

"Oh for goodness sake - HTSCHH!" Johns face was now streaked with tear tracks, his eyes red rimmed, making him look more like a child having a tantrum than a scolding adult, "you can be so stupid sometimes you dow."

"You're allergic to cats." It was more of a statement than a question - Sherlock quite clearly knew that it was right, therefore there was no need to pose it as a question but he was still unbelievably shocked; even after a year of living with John he had never observed this, he had never known.

John raised his hands and brought them together in a slow, mocking clap that matched his mocking tone of voice as he spoke, "well done, finally got there did we?" Unfortunately it didn't quite have the lasting effects Sherlock presumed John hoped it to have because it was quickly followed by the largest sneezing fit Sherlock had ever seen, "htscchh, atsch, aaachhhsttch, aAaAAtSCHHH, HTSSCH, ACHOOO, iittfff, hauuffft, aAAstCSCHHH!" The sneezes just kept erupting from John's mouth and Sherlock could do nothing but watch, feeling both shocked and strangely fascinated - that was until he heard Johns breathing become laboured and wheezy.

Quickly he sprang into action. He grabbed the cat from the kitchen table, ran down to stairs from flat 221B and shoved it out the front door. Next he ran back into the kitchen, grabbed the quivering John by the shoulders and led him into the bathroom where he promptly collapsed onto the toilet, looking ready to have an asthma attack. Unsure about what he was meant to do next Sherlock reached for the shower and turned it up high allowing hot steam to fill the room before he turned and began rummaging through the bathroom cabinet drawers - he knew John had an inhaler somewhere and had, to be honest, always wondered what he had it for. Now he knew of course, he thought, as his hands finally closed around the small, blue, L-shaped object. He snatched it out of the draw and thrust it into John's face, who was now thankfully sneezing less and breathing more evenly. John took it gratefully and quickly raised it to his mouth, where he promptly pumped the device and relaxed as he was finally able to take a deep, clear breath. He repeated the motion, then feeling much more at ease with his breathing, lowered the inhaler so that he could talk to Sherlock.

"Thanks." His voice was weak and hoarse and made Sherlock's heart twinge with sympathy and guilt.

"I'm sorry John, I didn't know."

"So I noticed."

"I'm really sorry, I mean, oh God, are you okay?"

"'M fine Sherlock." At these words his whole body slumped forward as every tension seemed to escape him, "sorry I got so angry too, I was just a bit panicked."

"It was my fault, don't apologise."

They fell in to silence as Sherlock slowly stood to turn the shower off. He kneeled back in front of John, who now looked ready to fall asleep, his eyes starting to flutter. Sherlock cautiously held out his hands and grasped John's forearms ready to support him if he fell.

"Oh... 'm sorry Sh'rlock... this always happens... dunno why, it happened more as a kid but... I could never stay awake," he stifled a yawn, "afterwards."

Sherlock just chuckled and pulled John to his feet, "come on, as comfortable as the toilet may be at the moment I really don't think it will stay that way. The sofa will, however."

They made their way through to the sitting room and John practically collapsed onto the sofa, a sigh of relief escaping his body. His eyes had stopped streaming now, and although they were still red rimmed and swollen, he looked much better.

"I probably should have told you," John admitted.

Sherlock nodded in agreement, "yes, it really isn't safe not too with an allergy that serious."

John quirked his eyebrow at Sherlock, amusement present on his face, "alright _Doctor Holmes_," he said sarcastically, "its not like you'd have told me anyways."

"That's because there's nothing to tell." Sherlock replied quickly getting back to his feet, "so, cup of tea?"

"Please."

Sherlock made his way across the room and just as he was about to enter the kitchen he hesitated and turned back. "Erm, just to be on the safe side, it would probably be best if you didn't ever cook shellfish," he said before quickly hurrying through the door.

"SHERLOCK!"


End file.
